


Mann of the Seven Sees

by Owlite



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Amputation, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Fire Magic, Healing Magic, M/M, Magic, Medieval Medicine, Mild Gore, Naval Combat, Nonhuman Characters, Pirates, Sea Monsters, Unspecified Setting, Violence, slightly canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:02:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25827892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlite/pseuds/Owlite
Summary: And he has took a bonny ship, and sent her to the sea.With four and three mariners to guard his bonny ship wee.They sailed up and they sailed down, say stately blind and free,'til they spied the old Queen's ship dear, and a leviathan on the sea.-Tags will be added as they become relevant.The class names are treated like crew nicknames, so only Demo and Soldier are gonna really be referred to by name. Also Engie, since his name would be weird here.Mature rating for violence/blood.
Relationships: Demoman/Soldier (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34





	1. The Admiral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The admiral an' the quarter fought the French, fought the French.  
> The admiral an' the quarter fought the French.  
> They fought them up and down, 'til the blood came trickling down.  
> 'Til the blood came trickling down, where they lay, where they lay.

The year was 1711, and it was a damn good time to be out pirating. Tavish had been a man of the sea since he was a lad, born into a notorious family of thieves. He'd won his prize ship at the age of 19, and with it his true manhood and the prestigious title of Captain.

Over the years, Tavish had amassed a small crew to help man his schooner, six men and a boy, all deadly as they were loyal. Well, there was another...

"Tae be a pirate, ye have tae commit piracy, boy!" Tavish's mum shouted at him, waving her cane in the air to accentuate her anger. "Why don't ye take a convoy or two? Ye gotta take yerself a prize someday!" She jabbed Tavish in the gut with her cane, sending him stumbling back with a hushed _oof_.

It's called the _Captain's Quarters_ , why couldn't he catch a break in his own room?

"We're gunnae chase a frigate, it's why we've been at sea fer a week, mum. A French one, fat with gold, it'll be worth it, I swear on me life," Tavish reasoned.

His mum’s bottom lip jutted as she thought on his reply, picking it apart to find a reason to complain. "Ye better not rock tae boat, boy, I plan on having me a drink. Don't ye think I deserve it? Enough that ye'd fetch me one? Tae good aged stuff, nae that bottled piss ye give yer men."

Tavish had no reason to continue this back-and-forth, accepting his inevitable defeat. "...yes mum."

As Tavish turned to leave and retrieve his mum some liquor, a knock came on the door he had started to leave through.

"Captain!" came the deep Russian accent, sounding as urgent as it was muffled. Tavish opened the door for him, awaiting his message. "French ship. Is in distance, brigs protect it." Heavy held up three fingers.

Damnit all, three brigs? Little weasel at the tavern must've "forgotten" that bit of the story...

"Tell tae men we're turning back now, we c-"

"Like hell ye are! Ye didn't put me on this hardly-seaworthy deathtrap fer a vacation! A real captain doesn't turn his back on a fight, boy!"

_Is that why your ship was sunk?_ Tavish wondered to himself.

"Yae, tell those bastards tae open those mainsails and catch the wind! Prime tae cannons and prepare fer a bloody battle!"bShe put a hand to her hip, and her other hoisting her cane to the ceiling like a sword. She truly did seem like a captain some days.

The taller man looked questioningly to his captain. Tavish pursed his lips, unsure what to do…

"...prepare fer battle," he muttered. The crewmate saluted, looking as unsure as Tavish was feeling, before turning to relay the orders in his booming voice. Tavish took the Eyelander from the wall, used so little as of late it seemed, all confidence having left him. His mum approached, gently placing her hand on his shoulder and smiling.

"Ye got this, Tavish, yer me boy." She went shakily on her tiptoes and pulled Tavish down to give him a motherly kiss on the cheek. "I'd rather wait an' see tae drinks they keep, meself." Tavish smiled wearily and left into the daylight, haunted claymore in hand.

The deck was in a rush, the crew in a hurry to prepare for battle. Scout struggled to secure the sails alone, and Dell, his quartermaster, was manning the wheel alone with an almost grave look to his face, obvious despite his covered eyes.

Tavish climbed the steps, reaching the wheel, and taking over.

"You better have a damn good plan, DeGroot," Dell told the captain.

"I hope ye've been sayin' ye prayers at night."

"Aw, hell…"

The ship took speed quickly, the wind in their favor. Or in a way, the opposite. The ship was struck with a sudden rocking, firing off Tavish's already-shot nerves. He isn't paying attention, a captain has to focus on the sea beyond him, not behind him. As they steadied again, Tavish ended up reentering his thoughts again…

Another strike knocked Tavish to his backside, and Dell grunted in annoyance at him as he wobbled. He took the wheel from Tavish without a word, obviously not up for Tavish's games right now.

Tavish shot to his feet at the sound of Scout yowling in agony like a cut-up cat. A panicked glance over the balcony showed him the boy sitting on the deck, holding his right hand out, his left clutching his wrist. There were small rivulets of blood beginning to stream down his wrist coming from… a splinter. A huge one, granted, as big as the boy's palm and jagged as a rock. Must've hurt like a bitch, and then some.

"Doc!" shouted Tavish, pointing to the injured Scout. The German seemed to be pointedly ignoring the boy but understood his orders. He handed off his task of preparing the cannon to Heavy, patting the giant's arm as he passed. The Medic kneeled in front of the injured boy, expression both unimpressed and furious.

The doctor grumbles under his breath something no doubt scathing before ripping out the huge splinter none-too-kindly. Scout yelped, drawing the attention and ire of everyone on board. Reduced to whining, Scout watched Medic stand again. "I vill clean it later, now go! _Raus_!"

The Scout jumped to his feet, sniffling and hurrying to man a cannon, leaving the Medic to finish securing the sail.

Before starting, Scout took a pitch-stained cloth to clean the blood from his arm. He tossed the soiled rag into the sea, where it vanished from the surface in an instant. Huh, hungry fish.

The ship rocked again, prompting a string of angry swears from Dell. The man wasn't often angry, and Tavish wonders if he's ever seen the man so positively pissed. He reasons that the anger is just nerves, same as the rest of his anxious crew.

"They're lookin' back at us!" came Sniper's shout from the crow's nest. Tavish looked to the sea for the first time in what seemed to be a while to see a sight most unwelcome. They've gotten much closer to the convoy than was comfortable, with two brigs poised broadside to their schooner and the third coming to meet them.

No shameful backing out now. "Portside, men, send those dogs down to tae drink!" Tavish took the wheel from Dell, the two sharing a stoic nod before Dell went to help man the swivel gun. The first shot was fired by them, four guns all poised to the side of the approaching brig. From then on, all hell broke loose.

The two readied brigs fired their guns back, most of the shot missing but those that connected did more damage than the poor ship needed to be taking. Fire rained onto the schooner, blasting man-sized holes into the deck, a powder keg sparked.

"Brace!" shouted Heavy when he saw the barrel start to burn. Scout froze, mere feet from the keg.

Tavish saw the boy, his heart dropping even further into his gut. "Scout!"

In the blink of an eye, Scout went overboard and into the sea, and the barrels blew a dire looking hole into the bow.

Someone shouted, "man overboard!" but Tavish couldn't even make out who had said it over the sounds of explosions. Without a second's thought, he released the wheel and sprinted to the bow. The Eyelander called out, "hey, stop!" Heavy stuck an arm out to stop him, but Tavish ducked under and, without a moment's hesitation, dove into the sea after his crewmember. If a good captain goes down with his ship, no better time for it than now...

The icy ocean hit Tavish like a thousand-ton weight, rendering his limbs useless and his chest tight with a lack of air all too quickly. Panic began to set in instantly, Tavish finding himself unable to swim up nor down. Something began to swim toward him. Scout?

Tavish had felt pain before. He'd cut himself with the Eyelander on accident, he's had his coat caught aflame, but he's never felt something quite as terrible as this. Teeth sunk into the meat of his left calf, too many teeth, ripping a chunk of the flesh and muscle away in one clean movement. Tavish screamed into the sea, forcing his arms to move and take him up to the surface, away from the Devil at his heels. He surfaced, air rushing too quickly in and out of his lungs to help, feeling like he was to drown above the water. A pair of rough hands clasped onto his unmarred leg, pulling Tavish under again.

He fought. He fought like hell, swinging fists sluggishly through the water. Upon resurfacing again, Tavish saw Heavy lugging a soaked Scout from the sea with the help of that damn Spy who'd joined them not too long ago. "Shark," Scout wheezed as Heavy dragged him over the rail onto the burning deck. A second resurfacing showed Tavish Heavy pointing to him and shouting something unintelligible to the sky.

After only a second, a musket shot flew from above, soaring just above Tavish's head. Behind him came a metallic _ting_. The shot ricocheted off the beast and struck Tavish on the back of his neck, stinging and drawing a bit of blood. The hands pulling Tavish down disappeared, but the sea wasn't giving up her claim on him. Tavish sank slowly again, unable to bring himself to move as lethargy took over. Before the sea claimed him fully, Tavish watched through the orange-tint waves as planks fell from the French brig onto the remains of his poor schooner.

They'd lost the battle, and Tavish Finnegan DeGroot could do nothing but watch as the sea staked her claim to his doom.

_Mum…_

…

  
  


_"...got 'im! I got 'im!" Huh?_

_"Se dépêcher!" Spy? No, the voice was much deeper than the one he knew._

  
  


…

  
  


_"...tae feck are ye leavin' us?!"...What? Where?_

_"Ta gueule!"_

  
  


...

  
  


Tavish opened his eye, groaning as unwelcome lamplight nigh blinded him. He felt warm and cold at the same time, both sick and tired. His gaze sluggishly fell to the side, Medic's boots filling his vision. Tavish's eye slowly raked upwards to see the Medic cleaning his hands thoroughly with a scrap of cloth.

"Doc," he rasped, skull feeling akin to a lead weight and muscles feeling like stone.

The German looked down at the immobilized man, tossing the cloth aside and clapping his hands together with a dreadful smile of his. " _Guten morgen_ , Tavish."

He glanced about the room, trying to make sense of where he was. It seemed like he was in... some sort of shack. It felt as if he was laying on the floor. A quick feel with his hands proved him right. A further feel shocked Tavish, feeling someone next to him. Summoning all his remaining strength, he turned his head to see Scout sleeping soundly on the other side of the room, his shirt removed and both his midsection and left forearm sloppily patched up.

"...Sc-"

"Scout is fine, he's just asleep. He vas bitten by a shark, but it's healed fine." The doc still looked at Tavish with amused eyes.

Shark? "Me leg," Tavish started, looking down his chest but being unable to see from the angle he had.

The doctor tutted. "Tragic, but necessary."

What? Tavish used his arms to push himself upright to see, feeling about as stable as a two-legged table. He looked to see his poor, mangled leg. but found nothing. It took a moment for his brain to catch up, but once it did...

Tavish yelled, clutching just above the bandages on the stump that was once his left calf. _"Me foot!_ **_YE TOOK ME BLOODY FOOT_ **!"

Scout jerked awake with a shout, arms out, ready to fight. He saw Tavish in his distress, feeling a little sympathy. Heavy had told him how Tavish went to save him when he went overboard. The idea had come to him that this might be his fault when he'd come to and seen the first time, but no, it's not like he jumped overboard. Man, it felt bad though. Scout put a hand comfortingly on Tavish's shoulder.

"I had no choice!" The doc looked offended at the notion he would've done it without reason. Maybe to someone else, but never his captain! "Zhere vas bone!"

Tavish was having none of it. " _YE CHOPPED OFF ME LEG! YE JUST TOOK IT OFF_!"

There was a knock at the door of the shack, heavy and loud. "TAVISH! I HEAR YE IN THERE!"

Without waiting for an invitation to come in, Tavish's mum barged into the shack, flooding the room with bright sunlight. She stomped up to Tavish and bopped him over the head with her cane. "Ye silly bastard! I'd keelhaul ye if yer boat could take it!"

" _MUM_ ," Tavish sobbed, looking like a struck puppy. A struck puppy with a missing leg. She pursed her lips, about to continue before her motherly side seemed to have taken over. Not without struggle, she kneeled beside her son and offered him a hug. Tavish took the hug gratefully, desperately needing some comfort.

"There, there, boy," she cooed. Scout watched in pure confusion, unsure what was even happening now.

The Medic _ahemed_ to get everyone's attention. "I think zhat Tavish needs to be left alone. To recover, of course."

His mum hmphed, about to say something scathing to the German before, amazingly, backing off without a word. The doc helped her to stand again and she smacked him for his efforts. She grabbed the collar of his leather coat and yanked him forward to mutter something to just him. Medic nodded and she let him go before leaving without a word, the door shutting behind her.

Tavish still looked sufficiently shaken up, sniffling. "Me ship... She mentioned me ship, what happened tae her?"

The Medic paused to think. "It's a long story. Vhen ve vere captured by one of the brigs, zhey took us here."

"And what's 'here'?"

"I am not sure. Everyone here seems to not know any languages but Spanish. It is a little fishing island, mostly tropical. Zhey let us use zhis fish shack for the time." That explains the smell. "I don't understand vhy zhey left us here, but if ve vere anyplace else, I vouldn't have been able to..." He gestured to where Tavish's left leg used to be.

"They said we were not worth their time," came a voice from the corner of the room. Tavish jumped at the sound of his voice. That sneaky feckin' French bastard, must've slipped in when the door was opened.

"They were going to take us with them, but we were less of a threat than we were a nuisance to them. So, they left us here, with what is left of your boat." There was a touch of mirth to his tone, like he found all this funny. "They took our cargo to pay for repairs on their ships and went on their way. All that is left to your name is some smoldering wood, captain." The Spy took the clay pipe from his lips, breathing out a plume of tobacco smoke.

Tavish groaned and flopped back against the floor, bonking his head against the hard wood floor. His arm crooked over his eye as if to hide from everything.

Tavish was suddenly exhausted, both physically and emotionally. He needed to deal with this later...

"Rest is probably zhe best thing you can have," Medic stated, "and ve vill all be leaving you be, now." Scout started to stand.

"Not you, you should be resting as vell. All of us _except_ you two should be leaving."

Scout huffed and crossed his arms, copying Tavish and falling back against the floor. The shack was soon empty besides them. At least, he assumed. Scout craned his neck to scan every corner of the shack to confirm Spy had left.

"Hey, captain," Scout started. "Uhh… I dunno, this is kinda weird. Thanks. Thanks, really. And I'm, uh…real sorry 'bout that. I mean, I know I didn't do it, but still-" Tavish snored.

Scout drew his lips into a thin line, both annoyed and relieved his captain was actually asleep. Scout rolled onto his side to face the wall, willing himself to sleep as well.

  
  


…

  
  


The next week went both quickly and as slowly as possible. Scout had had enough of the smell of fish guts and left the shack the next day, much to Medic's annoyance. Lucky bastard.

The day after that, Dell had shown up in the shack to surprise Tavish. As nice it was seeing his quartermaster, Tavish was just too depressed to appreciate the visit. Despite his disinterest, Dell told him about all that was going on. The crew was alright, and most importantly Tavish's mum was doing just fine. They'd gotten quite used to the island, becoming a bit of a spectacle among the locals.

Pyro had wandered off into the jungle surrounding the village, but Tavish wasn't too worried about them. He worried more about the possibility of Pyro burning it down. Hell of a way it would be to repay these people for their kindness.

Dell looked at the floor silently as if he was thinking about something.

"Guess I shouldn't beat around the bush. How's your leg?" Dell looked down to the bandaged stump, Tavish looking as well with a frown. Medic had come to redress it with new bandages earlier in the morning, and he'd regretted looking. Amazingly, all the bleeding seemed to have finished already. That's why the doc was the best, he supposed.

"Ah dunnae why, it doesn't hurt much at all. Feel like that's gunnae change soon, though." Tavish huffed through his nose, an attempt at laughter. Dell frowned.

"Hey, I bet'cha you'll be up again quicker than ya think." Dell showed Tavish his hook hand with a small smile, something Tavish always found interesting about the man. He wasn't sure about the significance of it now, though.

"Well, I better get goin'," Dell made to stand, already about to head out through the door. "Hope ya feel better soon." Tavish said nothing to that.

The rest of the week in the shack was as bloody awful as you could imagine. Medic would show up to redress his wounds in the morning, and Tavish couldn't miss how quickly he was healing. Within two days, it was almost nothing but scar tissue. By the end of the week, Medic had just completely removed the bandaging altogether.

"Have you been hurtin’ at all?"

"Not a bit," Tavish realized, all of the sudden amazed and confused. Jaysus, was the doc a witch? Tavish decided he didn't care. If the Medic was some kinda fae, then wasn't he lucky? Magic or not, Tavish felt his mood improve greatly in that moment.

On the eighth day, he was reminded why he'd loved his crew so much.

Dell had appeared at the door again with Medic, Heavy, and Scout, his good hand hiding something behind his back. Tavish was propped up against the wall, happy to be distracted from counting boards in the ceiling. He smiled wearily to the cheerful-looking company.

"You're looking right fine," Dell said as he stepped into the room, Scout and Medic following suit. Heavy stayed outside, the ceiling too low for him to make it in. Tavish noted for the first time how Medic had to bend to fit in the small room.

"Aw, did I forget me birthday?"

"It's your birthday?!" Scout looked guilty, having forgotten.

"No, Scout," Tavish chuckled, prompting the others to do the same.

Dell stepped forward, taking center stage. "Well, I did fix ya up a little gift." Dell took his hand from behind his back to hand Tavish what he had.

Tavish took a long look at what he'd been handed, unsure what it was. He'd suddenly realized, unsure what to say.

It was a sturdy piece of jungle wood, meticulously carved into a slight taper— with a few gouged and uneven bits —and some leather attached at the top in a cup shape, lined inside with jungle cat fur. It was a wooden leg, like the ones he'd heard of only the most legendary of captains having, those who'd come out of a gory battle alive with the scars to prove it.

"Wh..." Tavish's voice warbled, feeling emotional.

"Dell had me measure your other leg when you slept," Medic explained matter-of-factly.

Tavish sniffed once, twice, before starting to cry. A tear formed at his eye and he wiped it away with his sleeve, only for another to take its place.

"Aw man," Scout worried, "if ya don't like it-"

" _I LOVE ALL YE,_ " Tavish sobbed, hugging the peg leg close to his chest. " _I LOVE YE SO MUCH._ "

The four let Tavish cry it out, not sure what to say, seeing their captain… like this. When his joyful sobs died down in volume, Heavy spoke up.

"Maybe captain would like to try it on?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The surgeon dress'd his wounds, the admiral cried, admiral cried.  
> The surgeon dress'd his wounds, the admiral cried.  
> Let a cradle now in haste, on the quarterdeck be placed,  
> That the enemy I may face, 'til I die, 'til I die.


	2. We Be Eight Poor Mariners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh man. it's been... three months lmao  
> i promise i'm gonna update more frequently than this, i wanna see this fic finished so i WILL finish it damnit.  
> for now, some art with this chapter as an apology for the wait. o7  
> thank you to ironicallyiron for beta-ing this!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We be eight poor mariners, newly come from the sea;  
> We spend our lives in jeopardy, while others live at ease.  
> Shall we go dance the round, the round, the round,  
> Shall we go dance the round, the round, the round?  
> And he that is a bully boy,  
> Come pledge me on this ground, aground, aground.

_Jaysus, it would've been easier tae just walk without a leg._

Tavish had been practicing his new gait with the assistance of Dell, awkwardly stumbling laps around trees and walkways. At first the wooden leg proved to be too long, causing Tavish to wobble unsteadily against a fence post as Dell retrieved a saw.

He couldn't deny how the looks he got _really_ didn't help. Children tended to point, and adults would look at him with pity or annoyance. Tavish felt like he took up twice as much space as usual.

Of course, walking became easier and easier over time as Tavish paced the little fishing town; not to say it wasn’t still unpleasant. He'd always had a bit of wobble to his walk before, but now he felt he'd have to be aware of every step he took lest he fall. Tavish was no stranger to that feeling, but it was so much _worse_ sober. 

A couple of days passed, and Tavish was glad to find his whole crew doing well in this new setting they found themselves in. Most of their day was spent at the local tavern, enjoying the music and learning more about this place.

They'd met an English merchant in town, visiting just to stock up on food for their trip. As it would turn out, they were in a fishing village called Gullywash. How helpful. But specifically, they were quite far South, and a quick glance at his map showed them they were on a small island hardly two days of sailing from a port city. Then that settles it, they could set a course at first light tomorrow, if Dell could sail them.

"Yeah, 'bout that, captain. Got a _little_ bad news for ya."

Dell led Tavish out of the way of the fishing village, off past the docks and along

the vegetation-covered beaches, much to Tavish's displeasure, as he had to awkwardly climb over fallen trees and the like. Thankfully their little adventure had ended quite quickly.

Tavish saw the mast over the trees before they reached it, still adorned with its jolly roger, and was filled with excitement to see his beautiful bonny Iron Bomber again. All this time, he'd wondered what became of her, thinking she'd been sunk. But here she was!

The two rounded the edge of the jungle trees Tavish's heart sunk to his gut.

His ship, his pride and joy, mostly submerged in the sandy shallows. The bow was blasted to hell from where the kegs of powder had been lit. The hull was littered with jagged holes big and small where round shot had pierced the wood. And worst of all, it was _covered_ in seagulls.

Tavish... wobbled as quick as he could to the ship (one-legged wading through water was as awful as it sounded), shooing away a gull with a shaky wave of his hand. The bird had pecked his finger before flying off.

He pressed his face up against the side of the ship to survey the damage to it more closely. It was all half-submerged as expected. A few planks floated about, and Tavish believed he’d seen the fin of a large fish hurriedly swimming away. A barrel just barely peaked above the surface of the water, one that once held plenty of salted fish. It was empty now, besides the water inside. Various containers sat at the bottom of the shiny blue shallows, soaked chests of paper and a crate of medicines likely ruined by the seawater.

Tavish’s eye grew misty. Dell silently outstretched his non-hook hand to comfort his captain. Before he could get any closer, Tavish had outstretched his arms to either side, as if he were hugging the ship.

“ _LASSIE- AH’M SORRY!_ ” His teary cries started the lingering gulls, sending them flying off toward the village. Dell jumped at the suddenness of his shouting. “ _AH LET YE END UP LIKE THIS!_ ”

Tavish continued like this for a good bit, Dell shuffling from foot to foot and kicking rocks around to avoid looking at the captain. After about a minute had passed, Dell muttered something about heading back to town, and quickly made to leave Tavish be.

…

They’d been on the island for about three weeks now, and everyone had settled in nicely. Well, except for Tavish, who spent most of his days around the ship. Once he’d uncovered an intact crate of liquor from the captain’s quarters (which were relatively unscathed, save for an upturned table), there was no getting him to come back. Save for when he got hungry, of course.

Tavish was sitting on the railing facing the sea, eating his supper and enjoying the view, when he’d heard distant shouting. He disregarded it at first, assuming it’d come from the village, but it went on incessantly, like a bird in the morning.

Curiosity led Tavish to investigate, and he’d realized the sound was coming from the ship itself. Tavish flipped the vessel upside-down looking for the source of the noise (figuratively, of course), but he’d found nothing, until a rustling scrap of sail finally caught his attention.

Tavish grabbed up the canvas sheet, fighting knotted rope and twisted fabric all the way, until something heavy fell from it and hit his good foot like a brick.

_“YOU LEFT ME HERE!”_

Tavish threw aside the sail, recognizing that voice. On the floorboards in front of him was the Eyelander, pitifully scraping itself across the floor in an attempt to hit Tavish. He grabbed up the haunted claymore and held it tight, as if he were hugging it.

“I missed ye! I thought ye went intae the sea!”

_“You threw me on the ground! I’ve been stuck here for weeks you idiot!”_ The Eyelander continued to struggle in his grip, but Tavish wasn’t keen to let it go.

“I’d’ve come back for ye if I knew!”

_“I’VE BEEN YELLING AT YOU THIS WHOLE TIME!”_

“Ye were buried, I couldnae hear ye!”

_“Then I’ll just bury you next and see if anyone finds you!”_

“Ye don’t mean that,” Tavish laughed, finally releasing the sword from his embrace. He still held the hilt as tight as he could, not fully trusting it to not claim his head next.

_“I can’t believe you. I seriously cannot believe you right now.”_ Despite its protests, the Eyelander finally conceded. _“At least you found me before one of those stupid birds carried me off. They kept trying to. Someone even came up here and tried to pick me up, but I scared them off good.”_

“Aye, I’m glad yer safe t- ...Wait, what about someone comin’ up here?” Tavish wasn’t sure why he was concerned by that, those bastards took everything he had before they stranded them here. Well, except for the Eyelander, must’ve skipped their radar. There was nothing left to steal besides.

_“Yeah, I dunno who it was. Didn’t say anything, but I scared them right overboard. Made a big splash.”_

“Probably jus’ a kiddo comin’ tae see the wreck, then.” And that was it.

Tavish returned to the railing to sit and finish his supper, with the Eyelander leaning against it and looking out to sea with him. The two bantered back and forth as Tavish continued feeding the fish below.

…

Tavish returned to the village in the morning, leaving Eyelander behind on the wreck for now, much to its displeasure. He ran into Heavy and Sniper first thing. They told him about how they’d been looking for him.

“The rest’ve us been takin’ odd jobs so we can get the ship fixed. Don’t think we’re gettin’ anywhere any time soon, but it’s somethin’.”

“But we were told about someone we should see who might help,” Heavy stated. “Lives on other side of island and stays away from people. Should go and see him, see if he can help.”

Tavish nodded in agreement. “Are ye goin’ there now?” Heavy and Sniper nodded back.

“Scout is coming too.”

“Well, let’s be on it then, lads.”

Tavish, Heavy, and Sniper started down the shore, back past the wreck of the Iron Bomber and beyond. Scout appeared a bit later, yelling for them to slow down, like he wasn’t already caught up with them by the time he finished talking.

The walk felt longer than it should have been, and Tavish was getting a bit tired of stumbling in the sand and constantly falling behind. He’d been staring at the ground and watching his step so long he didn’t even notice they’d stopped until he slammed right into Scout, sending the cabin boy face-first into the sand.

Tavish would’ve helped him up if he wasn’t so distracted by the sight in front of him. A structure made of stone brick stuck out of its surroundings like a sore thumb. It wouldn’t be immensely impressive any other day of the week, but after a month stranded amongst thatch-roofed ruts, it looked like a castle.

The structure was surrounded by a flimsy-looking, short fence made of wood. Every few feet there was a sign saying something along the lines of “KEEP OUT” and “GO AWAY, I MEAN IT”. Some signs bore other messages such as “STAY OUT OF THE WATER” and “STOP READING THESE AND LEAVE”.

Tavish felt a strange sense of unease, a sort of slight nausea. Like he shouldn’t be here, or that he’d been here before.

The front door creaked open, and out came someone, dressed in a black… dress? And more notably, the skull of a ram on his head, still with one bulging eye. He was whistling a tune and dragging a bag of something, not having noticed his silent watchers yet. He brought the sack to the end of a short dock and nudged it with his foot into the sea. Some of the contents spilled out, just trash like broken glass and fish scraps.

He dusted his hands off as he turned before pausing suddenly. He turned slowly to face the crowd on his property, as if in disbelief that someone was here to bother him.

He bent forward to grab a hunk of driftwood by his feet, cursing when his back cracked loud enough for everyone to hear. He waved the piece of wood… threateningly? At least, it seemed like he was trying to be.

“ **REMOVE YOURSELVES FROM THE DOMAIN OF THE GREAT MERASMUS! DID YOU NOT SEE THE SIGNS?** ”

Heavy was unimpressed. He didn’t walk around the entire island to get yelled at by some old man in front of his creepy-looking house. “We were told you can help u-”

The piece of wood in Merasmus’ hand was suddenly engulfed in a cloud of green magic. Alright, that’s more of a threat. “ **NO, YOU CANNOT USE MY REAGENTS, I WILL NOT GET YOUR CAT OFF OF YOUR ROOF, AND NO, I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO TIE KNOTS. NOW LEAVE MY PROPERTY.** ”

“I didnae come here just tae get scolded by a witch! Yer gonnae hear me out!” Tavish snapped at the wizard. Merasmus held strong for only a moment before he sighed and tossed the hunk of wood over his shoulder.

“Come inside,” Merasmus mumbled, defeated.

Pleased with himself, Tavish led the others into Merasmus’ home. A splash caught Tavish’s attention, and he turned around just in time to see a fin disappear into the water with the bag of trash. No one else seemed to hear it, so he let it be.

The deja vu kicked in full force once Tavish entered the wizard’s… lair, and he didn’t like it. He still couldn’t figure out why this place seemed so familiar, and it was driving him up the wall.

The inside smelled like dead flowers and rotten leaves, and it was too dark to see much at all. The only light inside was coming from the ajar door and a lit lantern over an empty cauldron. It really was just like a witch’s cabin. Scout paid no mind to the sour ambiance of the one-room home and found himself a seat, falling into it heavily enough that it rocked back on two legs, much to Merasmus’ displeasure. Everyone else followed suit and found their own places to sit, Sniper getting stuck sitting on the floor. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Just know that you are _not_ welcome in here. Feel very _un_ welcome! Because you are! And tell me what you need so I can kick you out again!” Merasmus crossed his arms impatiently as Scout tried and failed to resist the urge to giggle, earning a full-handed smack to the back of his head from Heavy.

Tavish held his hands up by his chest defensively, not wanting to get into it with the wizard already. “Yeah, yeah, keep yer gown on, Merlin. Ah was told ye could help us. We were… attacked, aye, an’ stranded here. We aren’t the only ones, we’re part o’ a small crew, ye see-”

“ _YOU’RE THE ONE THAT BROUGHT THAT… THING HERE?!_ ”

“Wh- What are ye talking aboot?”

“ _THAT… FIRE NYMPH OF YOURS! IT BURNED DOWN MY GARDEN SO NOW I HAVE TO GO OUT AND FIND_ NEW _PLANTS. DO YOU KNOW HOW FAR I HAVE TO GO TO GET_ **_NIGHTSHADE_ ** _?!_ ”

“Ach, ah’m sorry aboot that. Pyro’s been goin’ missin’ a bunch an’ we wouldnae let ‘em go if we knew.” _Great, now he’s obviously not gonna help._ “I feel bad fer it, really, but can ye help us fix our ship? We were told ye could.”

“Does The Great Merasmus _look_ like a carpenter? Or a shipwright?”

“There’s a harbormaster, ye ken. Can’t ye ask fer a favor, since ye live here?”

“ _NO, I_ \- ...” Merasmus paused. He thought for a moment, seeming as if he’d forgotten they were there. Scout and Sniper looked at each other quizzically from across the room.

“...If you were able to leave, would you take that nymph with you?”

“Of course, Pyro’s one of the crew!”

“...Then I think I could do something… _BUT NO PROMISES! MERASMUS DOES NOT DO PROMISES!_ ”

…

Merasmus slammed his bony hands on the wooden table, startling the harbormaster who hadn’t noticed the wizard.

“H-Hey, it’s you! What are you doing here?”

Merasmus took a deep, steeling breath.

“ _PLEASE_ just fix that ship, the wrecked one down the shore. Get other people to help you, just get it ready to leave _as quickly as possible_.”

“Ah, well… You know that thing is real damaged… It’ll cost ye.”

Merasmus sighed and took out a leather pouch of coins. “How much?”

“More than ye got there.”

“Oh, old ones, give me strength…”

…

Another three days had passed, and everyone was riding high. Tavish was kicked off the Iron Bomber so that it could be repaired, so he had to find a new hiding place. In that way, he struck it rich. A little cliff facing the sea, only about five feet high, was the perfect place to rest and relax with the Eyelander leaning against a tree and complaining nonstop about it. He even found himself falling asleep on the grass quite often.

He’d pilfered a mostly-full bottle of rum for the night, cheap and watered down, but good enough. He sat at the cliff and admired the orange and pink hues of the sunset. Call it cheesy, but it was pleasant, and that was all Tavish could ask for. After all, pink skies at night, sailor’s delight. (Even if he didn’t plan to sail any time soon.)

“I’ve been thinkin’,” he started. If the Eyelander actually had any, it’d be rolling its eyes right now.

“ _Thinking’s all you’ve been doing for the last two hours._ ”

“Nae, really, I think I figured it out. Why that magic man’s house was so blindin’ awful tae be in. I _have_ been there before!”

“ _Really?_ ” said the Eyelander, in quite possibly the most disinterested tone possible.

“Aye, I have. I must’ve gone as a lad. Me mum always wanted me tae do odd jobs between plunders, and she sent me tae that house fer one. I remember it now..”

“..I had tae weed the garden fer ‘im! It must’ve been bad tae make me all shivery like that goin’ again.”

The Eyelander, who didn’t even _need_ to breathe, heaved a sigh. Tavish took another swig from his bottle, finishing off the liquor inside.

Tavish opened his mouth to speak again, no doubt another new life-changing epiphany, before being abruptly cut off by a fish to the face. He sputtered, running his sleeves over his face to get some of the sliminess off of him. The fish landed in his lap as the Eyelander started to laugh.

“What tae feck was that?!” Tavish spit in the grass beside him, some of the salty seawater getting into his mouth when he spoke. He looked over the side of the cliff into the water, seeing nothing below. He looked at the fish in his lap again and only had more questions.

He immediately assumed that the fish must’ve jumped out of the water, but not anymore. Most of the fish was gone, just the head and half of the body, like it had been bitten in half. Something must’ve tossed it up here-

There was another splash, bigger this time. Someone gripped the cliff beside Tavish and hefted themself up to chest-level with a grunt. The stranger froze upon seeing the captain, looking quite startled.

All Tavish could really see was its chest and arms. Half of its face was obscured by the brim of a morion helmet. It was obviously shirtless, with heavily tanned skin and a splotchy strip of paleness up its front, stopping at its chin, like the underbelly on a fish. Its arms had… fins? Something like that...some kind of grey (almost blue?) protrusion from each forearm. There were slits along its neck, rapidly fluttering open and closed as it breathed. Its mouth hung open slightly in confusion, showing rows of shiny teeth, perfectly triangular and serrated on both sides.

If Tavish was sober, he’d have grabbed its arm. Maybe pulled it up and see if what he just saw was real. Instead, he only sluggishly reached toward it. “Wait-”

And that was all he could do before the strange creature let go of the cliff and fell back into the sea with a _splash_. It was gone before Tavish could even look over the edge again.

Tavish knocked the decimated remains of the fish back into the water and stood with a wobble, both from drunkenness and shock.

“What... Tae feck… Was that.”

“... _A fish? Or the guy that you just scared off with your ugly mug?_ ” The Eyelander snickered.

“Nae, it wasn’t-” Tavish quickly shut up, not wanting to fight it. What he saw… That wasn’t just a person. Or was it? Maybe he was loopy, but he could’ve sworn…

No, it was just a person. Had to be. Someone was just fishing and he took their spot. Maybe if he actually got some proper sleep, he wouldn’t be seeing fish people. Then again, he had a haunted, talking claymore… But that’s irrelevant. One is real, the other was from his sleepy imagination. Easy.

Tavish decided that was enough thinking on it for tonight and grabbed the Eyelander by its hilt as he headed back for Gullywash. He just wanted away from this spot so he could drink some more and forget about it.

…

Tavish returned to the village without another thought on what happened that afternoon. No one noticed his sudden return, or at least, didn’t comment on it. He drank into the night with Medic, though he lacked the usual jovialness he had when he drank with company. Honestly, he just drank while Medic watched and waited for him to pass out so that he could go to sleep himself. It wasn’t until late in the morning that Dell woke Tavish.

“Captain, ya might wanna get up for this.”

Tavish batted at Dell like an agitated cat, groaning as he opened his eye and was subsequently blinded by the daylight. Was he on the floor…?

“You havin’ a good dream there, sleepin’ beauty?” Dell chuckled, backing away so that Tavish could sit up. It was then he realized he was lying on top of the table. The tavern was thankfully empty so early, but that didn’t stop Tavish from being embarrassed about it. He shielded his face in the crook of his arm, both to hide from Dell and keep the killer mid-morning sun from his sleepy eye.

“Aye, I’m sure ah was.” Despite his embarrassment, Tavish still braved a laugh in return. Maybe that _was_ just a dream…

“Well, c’mon then. Got somethin’ to show ya.”

Tavish slowly but surely got his foot on the ground before Dell was tugging him along by his sleeve like an overexcited child. Dell took him down to the docks, until Tavish was finally able to make out a jolly roger amongst the forest of masts, and his crew on-deck, sweeping and maintaining it as if it were any other day on the Iron Bomber.

Tavish stood at the end of the dock, beaming when heavy passed by the portside with a crate of ale so tiny he couldn’t see lasting them the night. At least they’ve already begun stocking up for their trip. _We can finally get out of this dump._ He waved to Heavy, who waved back, smiling as well. “ _Dobroye utro, kapitan!_ ”

“Aye, and tae you too!” Tavish wished he knew what the hell that meant. He hoped it was nice, at least. Heavy set the crate down on the floor and reached over the edge of the ship to offer a hand so that Tavish could board. While he was sure he could’ve taken the step alone, Tavish appreciated the generosity. Dell followed after and went the other way to go help Scout, who was struggling with untangling some rigging.

Small but heavy stomps approached Tavish from behind, and he thankfully realized in time to brace for the cane that hit him in the back. 

“There ye are! Yer lads been hard at work makin’ this damned _long_ pretty ‘gain all mornin’, and where’ve ye been? Sleepin’! Get up ‘ere and grab a damn broom, boy! We got alotta cleanin’ tae do ‘fore we go anywhere!”

_Aaaaand there goes the moment._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We care not for those martial men, that do our states disdain,  
> But we care for those merchantmen, that do our states maintain.  
> Shall we go dance the round, the round, the round,  
> Shall we go dance the round, the round, the round?  
> And he that is a bully boy,  
> Come pledge me on this ground, aground, aground.


End file.
